In the Name of Love
by commandmetobewell
Summary: "We had been so careful. We had tried so hard to hide it."


**A/N: Trigger Warning: Death or Dying, Gore, and Graphic Depictions of Violence.**

* * *

 **Sunday, December 26th**

 _2:01am_

I looked at the both of them, lying so peacefully side by side. I tried my best to recreate the way they had looked the first time I had seen them… together, five years ago. My memory had been blurry and vague, but I was almost sure that it had been Tegan's arms around Sara's waist, with her face nuzzled into the crook of her neck. Sara's lips had been kissing her forehead sweetly, just like they were now. I admired my fine craft work with weary eyes and heavily slacked shoulders.

I sighed and stood in the kitchen, drinking slowly from a cup of coffee that had long gone cold. It was indecent of me to leave the porcelain mug unattended. Sara loved coffee. I knew that she could go days without food, but not without coffee. I swallowed back the bitter taste and shook my head. I set the empty cup down in the sink and washed it, before drying it and placing it back in the cupboard where it belonged.

I took the time to admire Sara's clean and organized cupboard before shutting it, unable to look at its contents any longer. I wanted to smell the bitterness of the coffee. Instead, I felt the remainder of black liquid drip slowly down my throat to petrify my sunken heart; I wanted the toxin to turn my heart into the same dark shade it possessed. I craved for the smell of Montreal's winter to cloud the early morning air with a familiar sense of home.

Yet, it was smell of blood that engulfed the desolate room.

I turned around and faced them again, lying still on the stained wooden floor. It was hard to tell where one stopped and the other began. Limbs were tangled with limbs, bodies were furled into bodies. In the pocket of Tegan's blood stained jeans, I could make out a small triangular object. I didn't dare pry it from her. I had already stolen enough from the both of them. Sara's neck was purple and bruised, and for a second, I felt a pang of remorse pull at my heart. She had been so accepting of her fate, much unlike her sister. Sara always was the smarter of the two.

She understood.

I breathed in the scent of my creations lying together. I took a moment to let the scenery etch itself into my mind. I let my finger tips dance upon the cool countertop as I drew deep, long breaths. I was surprisingly calm, even though not even moments ago, I had lost everything I had loved and protected for so long. I glanced over at the wilted roses in the vase and bit my tongue hard enough to draw blood.

The flowers were long gone now, just like their owners.

Shaking my head, I closed my eyes. I wouldn't allow myself to lose my levelled head. I heard their desperate pleas in my mind, trying to drive me to insanity. It was so tempting, like their many requests before, but this time, I couldn't give in. I blinked open my eyes and walked over to them. I licked my chapped lips and sat down on the worn leather couch where this had all begun. I gazed upon my daughters and let the tears flow from my cheeks. The icy droplets fell to take refuge in the stubble of my beard as I harshly swallowed the pit in my throat.

I looked from Tegan to Sara, wondering why it had to have been them. I kept staring at their bodies, trying to figure out why they had to chase their love. At least, they could have done a better job of hiding their escapades. They could have kept their little notions more vague. But, knowing them, they had to show it. They had to let the world know who they truly loved.

The knocking on the door didn't startle me the slightest bit. I knew that there was nothing I could do now. I wanted to stop the beating of my heart and join them in their eternal slumber, but I had other plans laid out for me. The silver carbine that rested upon the glass coffee table gleamed in the pale moonlight, providing the room with a grim light. I couldn't move from my seat as the knocking increased. I wiped my tears and looked at both my girls with saddened and lost eyes.

When I had first found out from Sonia that they had been ratted out, I knew what I had to do. It was a father's duty to protect his babies - his true loves in life - from danger. I knew that no matter where they ran to, someone would find them. The pain they would have faced would've been worse than what I had dished them hours ago. Sonia never quite understood what would become of her children. She had cried and screamed at the top of her lungs until I had to silence her, too. In her last breaths, I had seen it in her eyes. The blank look in those cold, brown depths were knowing and empathetic.

She knew.

Once she knew what I was going to do, and she had stopped her struggling. She knew that wherever they were to go, she would follow behind them. I had nodded my head, letting her know before I snapped her delicate neck, that she would be there to greet them first.

The pounding intensified.

The doors would be knocked down soon and they would find me. I didn't care, however. I had heard the neighbours calling the police, screaming on the phone about gunshots. They had heard, but they did not know what had truly conspired. I looked back down at the two girls that had given me thirty four years of fond memories, and I sighed deeply.

I looked to my oldest, realizing that I had been so unnecessarily brutal with her. I never had the intention of hurting her; I wanted to have her be taken down softly and painlessly. Tegan always had been a fighter. I outlined the fresh cut on my cheek from where she had dug her nails into my rough skin. She had shoved Sara into the bedroom and closed her door before turning to face me. Her years of karate were put to use as she fought back with everything in her five foot three frame. Her punches and blows were not to defend herself from my countless blows, however.

They were to defend _her_.

The door burst open and the sounds of heavy boots filled the empty space, disturbing the peaceful silence. I kept my body ridged to my seat and didn't waver my stare from my daughters. There was loud, incoherent shouting as two arms were cupped under my shoulders, hoisting me from my seat on the couch and onto the floor. For a moment, I felt death creep into my bones; it was a faint and final goodbye from my girls. The both of them were truly identical now as their heads were cocked in my direction.

I watched as the men in thick black armoured vests searched the bodies for signs of life. Sara would have had a fit if she could see the black footprints marking her floors. I took one final look at them, wrapped up beside each other. Two small holes bore through their chests; their blood still slowly pooling into one giant puddle. If they bled any harder, I was sure they would fill the room, drowning me.

Finally, after thirty four years, they were at peace.

The cuffs were placed around my wrists as one of the men demanded me for my name. I didn't say anything, however. I didn't need to. I would take the amount of time in prison for killing my ex-wife and my two children. I was not proud of my actions, but I knew that I'd rather have had them die at my hands than at the hands of a stranger. As they wrapped their small bodies into their designated body bags, I let out a sigh of relief.

My job was done.

 **Saturday, December 25th**

 _10:51pm_

The bullet blew straight through her heart before slamming into the wall behind her.

The crimson blood splattered the eggshell whites evenly, painting upon the neutral color an unremovable stain. The spatters were spread across the entire concrete barrier, creating a new tone upon the floral tapestry. I cowered behind the couch as I heard her body slump heavily to the ground. I tried to shake those last ten seconds of madness from my mind.

I had watched her _die_.

I felt as though my asthmatic lungs would cave in right then and there. I leaned my forehead against the leather couch, feeling the material stick to my clammy skull. I pressed my hands to my head and let out a silent scream, shutting my eyes tightly. The acrid smell of her blood and my fear filled the room as light, padding footsteps stepped into the living room. Ironic, the name, considering all it contained now was its brother - _death_.

Sheepishly, I peeked my head around the corner. I regretted my action almost immediately. My twin's body was lying at an awkward angle upon the ground. Her arm was sickeningly twisted around her head, obviously broken. Her face that had once been adored and worshipped by women and men alike, had been reduced to a mash of blood and flesh. I felt the bile rising in my throat as I looked at her mutilated body. I couldn't will myself to look further than the bridge of her battered nose, for I knew what awaited me. My body quivered as I swallowed hard, shaking my head. I jutted my head upwards and lost control.

I gasped, and the footsteps stopped.

Tegan's eyes were glossy and glazed over as they looked at me. The hazel orbs were dotted with dark crimson and sickly orange hues. She was dead, and I didn't need a coroner to see that. The blood spilled from her so innocently. We had been so careful. We had tried so hard to hide it. I let the cries succumb my body into nothing short of a quivering mess. I moved my hand forward to even the weight of my trembling palms that kissed the cold, hardwood floor. Just as I was about to reach forwards and crawl to her, I slipped and fell, crashing to the floor.

I let out a painful and low yelp as I glanced at my hand. It was covered in her sticky gore, imprinting my skin with our careless mistake. I held my hand tightly with the other, watching the blood drip upon my pale skin. I grit my teeth as I gripped harder. The white ice of my hand soon threatened to explode as I looked back over at Tegan with blurry vision.

Her other hand was stretched out, the palm facing upwards; it was almost as though she were reaching for me. I felt my body stop its shaking as I looked at her from where I was lying sprawled out on the floor. Her eyes were now lightened and greying slightly. I felt the stale air leave my lungs as I just stared into those lifeless orbs, wondering what I had ever done to deserve this. I reached out with my hand and placed my palms up. It may have been my overwhelmed brain, but for a shadow of a second, I thought I saw her lips curl into the small twitch of her famous, gummy smile.

"Sara."

I didn't turn around at the familiar low, gravelly voice. I couldn't bear to look at him, not after what he had done to my lover. If anyone were to have walked in upon at that moment, they might have assumed that the both of us were dead.

He knew _I_ was alive, though.

"Sara."

His voice was firmer now, but I still didn't turn. I kept my eyes shut tight as I leaned my head against my outstretched arm, amplifying the throbbing in my temple. The beat was overpowering and deafening, rendering me numb.

I felt my body lurch into the air as he grabbed the back of my shirt collar. I was grabbed flimsily, like a rag doll, as I was smashed into the wall. My nose cracked at the contact, letting hot blood gush down my mouth. Lipstick was no longer required to paint my lips the lovely dark red I once loved. I actually smiled at the pain. I wanted it. I wanted him to do what he needed to do.

I wanted him to kill me.

I felt my body swivel in mid air as my back was pressed into the concrete wall. His hands wrapped themselves around my throat as he jutted my chin up to stare directly at him in the eyes. I looked into his deep hazel depths; the hazel that we had once gotten from him now tainted with grief and remorse. He pressed harder against my throat, but this time, tears welled up in his eyes. His eyes watered as he dipped his head in shame and defeat. My legs dangled, but I didn't dare to kick him or struggle.

"Why, Sara? Why?" His voice was so pained, so broken, like he had been the one who had to bear witness to the death of his lover. He didn't know my pain, and he never would.

Would he?

It was was as though time stopped for a second. The earth stopped spinning, and all that remained was him and my dead twin. After a moment, he snapped his head up so suddenly I thought he would attain whiplash; anger and love, an icily scalding combination brewed in his glossy orbs. I stared into him with a steely glare, trying to search his soul for something - anything - to justify his previous and current actions.

Yet, _he_ had questioned _me_.

"I…," I choked out, gripping his hands around my throat, "I love her." I coughed, feeling my chest concave into me, suffocating me harder than his strangling. He shook his head as he shoved his hand further into my throat, and that's when I felt it. The barrel of the gun was pressed into my side, just under the left kidney. I growled and hissed, trying to get his attention. He gave me a scolding glare, intensifying his grip.

"Wait," I breathed out, "please… my heart. Through my heart. I want to go… like her. Please." I begged him, feeling the tears stream down my face. They wiped away the blood and replaced the bitter metallic taste in my mouth with a damp salty one. He looked into my eyes and softened his grip at my request, understanding my need. He sighed and nodded, moving the gun to rest against the flat of my chest plate. He closed his eyes and I watched as the hand holding the weapon shook lightly.

"I love both of you, Sara. My girls… my girls." He whispered softly, his voice cracking. I cried harder at his words, knowing that he was indeed telling the truth. I knew that had come over for a reason. He just wanted to protect us. He knew that tomorrow the police would have taken us to a worse place, in which we would have suffered harder and longer than right now. We would have died in our own ways, separate from each other.

"Dad… we love you, too," I gasped, causing him to snap his head up. He nodded and swallowed hard, clicking the gun. I looked back over to Tegan, lying on the cold ground. Her lifeless eyes stared back at me with a forgiving and safe emptiness, as I drew my final breath. When the shot soared through my wounded heart, I only had four words left to say.

"I love you, Tegan."

 **Thursday, December 23rd**

 _6:30pm_

"I wanted to give you this before you left, but I figured because of the snow, you wouldn't be going anywhere," Sara said to me, giving me a cheeky smile. I blushed at her adorable quirkiness as I eyed the box in her hand. It was small and shaped like an engagement ring case.

"You surely aren't gonna propose to me, are you, Sara?" I asked her with a teasing tone. Sara laughed and shook her head, tossing the box in my direction. She shoved her hands in her pockets and shrugged her shoulders, a smirk playing at her lips.

"Don't flatter yourself, Tee. I know that you want to get gay married over and over again, and besides, I'm not the marrying type," she chuckled with a teasing wink, plopping down on the couch next to me. I curled up into her arms, laying my head upon her shoulder. Sara's arms draped around my sides and her palms rested just below my breasts. I felt her kiss the top of my head, making me blush. I opened the box and gasped.

It was the first guitar pick I had ever received at a show. I remembered the event like it had happened yesterday. Sara and I had snuck out to catch New Kids On the Block play live at the Stampede. We had bustled through the heavy crowd to get to the front. I ran my fingers over the faint cracks and dusted lines. I could still make out the distinct letters that spelled out Jim Dunlop upon the yellowed triangular piece of plastic. I looked up back at Sara with warm, grateful eyes.

"Baby…" I whispered, reaching up with my hand to touch her cheek. Sara moved her face to the side to kiss the open end of my palm softly. I smiled instantly as I leaned up. Our foreheads pressed together as she stared deep into my eyes with love and longing.

"Oh, hey, I think that we should definitely get working on this new album soon. I have a bunch of new songs I'm ready to play." Sara mumbled, brushing our noses together in an eskimo kiss. I smiled into her embrace and nodded. Sara let out a low, hearty laugh.

"You're not even paying attention, are you, chicken-shit?" She smirked as I eyed her lips. I wrapped my arms around her neck and pulled her into me, shaking my head.

"I'm too busy thinking about what I want to do right now…," I mumbled softly, eyeing her with a playful grin. Sara raised her brow at me and bit her lip.

"And what exactly do you want to do, Tee?" She asked me in a sultry voice. I let her take my hands in her own as she pushed me back down against the couch. Her hips fell to rest between my legs. I wrapped my own legs around her the small of her back, pinning her closer to me. I felt the couch sigh as she lowered some of her weight upon me. I tucked a strand of her hair from her face and gave her a small, knowing smile.

"You," I whispered softly, feeling my hands shake at the contact of her nimble fingers grazing the backs of my wrists. Sara smiled at my single word and nodded, leaning down to kiss me.

"I love you, Sara," I whispered sincerely, leaning up to greet her with a kiss. Sara bent down and met me halfway, connecting our lips in a sanctified seal. I deepened the kiss, showing her how much I truly loved her back. Our eyes closed simultaneously as we let our tongues do the talking. We explored undiscovered caves and licked away at all the pain we had harboured while keeping our love a secret. We pressed our bodies tighter together, trying to mould ourselves into the one being we were initially meant to be.

Her lips were so warm and inviting. They freed me of my chains and propelled me into a blissful euphoria. I flew with Sara, soaring through an endless love. The world could have crumbled around us, but Sara and I would've still found safety and warmth in the presence of each other. I tangled my free hand in her hair, still gripping the pick tightly in my other one. Our predestined feelings for each other acted as a catalyst as we fell deeper into each other's love. The room crumbled away as all that was left was us as we were nearly swallowed whole by the leather couch.

We had no idea, that just outside the window and upon the balcony door, Lindsey and Stacy were watching in awe with dropped jaws. Two sets of eyes, one hurt and the other angered, watched as we remained oblivious to the cruelty of our reality. In Stacy's hands was a bouquet of red roses, lovely and fresh from the local store down the street. Lindsey's shaking hands held her passion and love, a small inanimate object that would be deemed harmless to any regular person. But, we weren't regular people, and her camera wasn't harmless. No, we were sick and it was our tragic demise.

If only she had never pressed record.


End file.
